Standing beneath the steeple, playing in the cornfields, learning to be a pastor while trying to faithfully preach the Good News, and the church who loves me anyway.

Get a move on it!

Last week, weddings were the obvious choice for an analogy. But this week, the metaphor is a lot less subtle. This week, to put yourself in the text, picture yourself as moving. Now, I know this happens to be a church where many of you have lived in the same house for many years, and that’s such a blessing, but I bet you can imagine with me.

I don’t know many people who think moving is particularly fun. When my parents were moving out of their seminary housing, my normally calm and even tempered Dad got so tired and frustrated that he tied all their hanging clothes together, thinking he might only make one long trip down the stairs. But when he tried to pick them up and discovered that they were much too heavy, he managed to tie them into a few smaller bundles and tossed them out the window. Or at least that’s the story my mom tells… which may or may not be exaggerated. It’s possible that my dad hates moving more than most people. Since they’ve been in this house, he’s said more than once “I hope it’s later than sooner, but I’m going to die in this house…I’m never moving again!”

Gosh, moving is such hard work. There’s all the stuff to pack up– your china and pictures and stuff you haven’t seen in 15 years. Then you decide that you might as well throw away all the stuff you don’t really need, because that’s easier than moving it and unpacking it, but it’s still a heap of work all the same. And not only all of that, but stress is so high that tempers flare uncontrollably. There’s just not much that’s fun about the process.

But here’s the thing– we don’t move just because we enjoy the process so much. No, we move (usually) because there’s an opportunity for something. Maybe we’ve gotten a better job, or maybe because we’ve gotten married. Maybe there’s even a neighborhood that’s better. In someways, a new home and neighborhood present kind of a clean slate… and at least at the beginning, we are pretty sure that anything is possible in this new place of blessing.

[Transition: I bet you’re wondering what any of this has to do with Jesus, or the proclamation he reads. After all, Jesus doesn’t say anything about moving at all.]

The Text

But I think what Jesus is doing is showing his hearers a brand new place where it seems like so much is possible. It’s almost like that scene in the Disney movie “The Lion King” where the father lion, Mufasa, takes his son, Simba, and shows him the kingdom. And almost as far as he can see is beautiful and filled with rich possibilities. But in one corner, is an area that is very dark and the audience knows that nothing good goes on there.

The differences between the places is amazing, and we can all sit here and think to ourselves that we’d like to live and be in the beautifully colored places that are filled with potential. We wouldn’t even like to visit that place of shadows, which is so dreary and gloomy and filled with danger.

What if, you lived in the shadows, and didn’t even realize it?

I think that’s what had happened to Jesus’ audience. They were living in a bad, shadowy neighborhood, and didn’t even realize it until Jesus showed them something else. They were living in the Roman Empire, and life was not good. They were miserable. It felt like God was being especially slow in keeping promises, but maybe the problem was that they were looking for fulfillment in the wrong places.

What’s funny to me is that the crowd gets really angry with Jesus (the lectionary leaves out the part about the crowd wanting to throw Jesus off a cliff.) But the reason that’s funny is that Jesus, I think, is telling them exactly what they want to hear. Perhaps they realize that Jesus words aren’t all fun and games. If what Jesus is saying is true, it’s going to mean a radical shift in how they behave.

The Old Place
I wonder what the old neighborhood looked like. It’d be easy to argue that it must not have been all that bad, if they didn’t know it was bad. But then again, how do you ever know what something is until you have something to compare it to?

Maybe the old neighborhood where the folks had been figuratively living was a place that only the rich had any say so. Maybe the old neighborhood was a place of slavery, and maybe at least some of that slavery was because people didn’t know any better. Maybe some were actual slaves, which would not have been uncommon then. But maybe some were slaves to the times and the customs which they let hold them captive. Maybe some were even slaves to old memories and expectations.

Maybe the old neighborhood was a place of blindness– maybe actual literal blindness, but maybe also spiritual blindness. Maybe it was a place where no one could look his neighbor in the eye and see another child of God. Maybe the blindness came from seeing “others” as ones who were competition for the things you wanted.

The people were living in the Roman Empire, and followed the rules of the Roman Empire Neighborhood. I guess they were making it, but my guess is that they were hardly thriving.

So, I think, what Jesus does is invites everyone to figuratively pack up and move. He invites them to have a big ol’ spring cleaning, and clean out the garbage in their lives they don’t need. Here’s the kicker. No one sorta moves (unless of course you happen to be very well off and can afford to have several places at once.) Once you make the decision to move, you really move. There’s no hokey pokey where you put your right foot in and take your right foot out– no. You have to be totally committed to the move. The transformation Jesus is ushering in is complete. To really do what Jesus asks, you can’t play the hokey pokey here either.

So what does this new neighborhood look like?

Going to the New Place (What does it look like)

Imagine that you’re in that famous scene from the lion king where someone is holding you up and you can get the whole lay of the land. You see the shadows, and your heart sinks. But now imagine that you also see the bright, cheerful place that is just so inviting to come in. You take a deep breath, and know that you’ve found your true home.

This bright place is one where the poor matter just as much as the rich, and get to help in the decision making process. The new neighborhood is one where everyone is free, not just from actual slavery, but from all the things that bind them. Everyone walks around with this terrific sense of liberation, as if this huge weight has been lifted off of them. The new neighborhood is filled with folks who can see how terrifically they’ve been blessed. No longer is everyone afraid to look his neighbor in the eye, for fear the neighbor might want what he has. But everyone is wide awake, and able to see the image of God stamped on everyone they meet.

[Transition: It sounds too good to be true– like much of what Jesus has to offer us. It goes against what society offers us, and society will go to great lengths to prove to us that it’s a worthy master for us to follow.

But Jesus doesn’t see this new neighborhood as a day dream. He doesn’t see it as a “sweet by and by” sort of thing. No. In fact, what Jesus thinks about the possibility of this happening is that it can happen right now.

Our priorities

Jesus tells us his priorities: give the good news to the ones who most need to hear it, to set the captives free, to work for the sight of those who can’t see the goodness, and to proclaim the Lord’s favor.

It sounds great. We’d love to be on his team.

But.

In a lot of ways, I’d argue that that three letter word is the church’s favorite. (Not just this church, but most churches.)

But, we don’t have enough money to care for all those people. But, we might get taken advantage of. But, it’s scary, and it might make things change. But, “they” aren’t like us. But, what if they sit in my pew? But, what if I don’t agree with them? But what if this zaps our resources, and we don’t have enough for ourselves? But, I’m tired, and I’m just ready to sit here and not work. The list goes on and on.

Our inclination is to try to ease in to something, a little bit like just sticking a toe into cold water, so that we can “get used to it.” We want to make sure our interests are looked after. No doubt, we like the idea of the new neighborhood Jesus paints, but we want to research it first. Make sure the areas good, and our neighbors are the ones we’d want, and it’s in a good school district.

Oddly enough, there’s no “But” in Jesus’ moving speech. He doesn’t say “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has annointed me to proclaim good news to the poor, but…” He doesn’t say “He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives, but..”

No, none of that. He gives his brilliant speech, rolls up his scroll, and sits down. As if to say, “You’ve heard it. Now do it.” It’s almost like Jesus is saying “Today is the day. The Spirit of the Lord is upon you–God is calling and equipping you to be the church in the world.”

Churches like to ask “How are we doing as a church?” (In fact, I’ll be sitting in a retreat with our elders and asking that same question this weekend.) But if we’ve really and fully moved into the new neighborhood that Jesus proclaims, maybe a better question would be “What are we doing for God as a church?”

In his speech, Jesus tells us his priorities. If Jesus asked this church what our priorities were, what would we tell him?

Are we a church who values taking the good news out to other people? Are we a church who values and welcomes all people, whether or not we agree with them, whether or not they are like us? Are we a church who could forsake our own comfortableness to serve someone else. Are we a church who is willing to completely shift its priorities to be in line with God’s priorities?

I ran across this quote when I was preparing for this, and it’s food for thought. “Mission catches you up in the life and vitality of God, for it is God who relentlessly draw men and women to himself in love and compassion. Moreover, when we step away from mission, there is a corresponding depletion of life and vitality in the church.”

To me, that quote says, “The more you seek to bless everyone around you, the more abundant life you will come to know.” I think that’s especially true for us in the church.

There are lots and lots of ways that this church cares for so many in the community, and I’ve been blessed to watch and be a part of it. It’s been a blessing to watch this church and individuals really give of themselves, even outside their comfort zone. It’s kinda like we’ve been and researched the neighborhood, and know that the new place is where we want to go. I wonder what it would take for this church to completely move into the new neighborhood, where we can really live as God’s covenant people? I wonder what this church might look like if we really, completely moved into God’s new neighborhood?

I don’t know for sure. But in the churches I’ve seen that have really tried to do these things, and make God’s priorities their priorities– it’s almost like nothing can stop the church from flourishing.

Get a move on it!
I think, this morning, Jesus says to us “Get a move on it!” Normally, we think of this as having to do something with hurrying up. And maybe that’s right here too. But maybe Jesus also invites us to pack our bags, to toss out our junk, and to move into a brand new neighborhood that is filled with rich possibilities. It takes a lot of work to get there, but imagine the difference between living an unfulfilled life in the shadows, and a brilliant, liberated life that just radiates joy.

Jesus says, “ I have come to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to those held hostage, and bring sight to those that can’t see. I’m going to set at liberty those who are oppressed, and I’m going to preach the Lord’s favor to all who will listen. That ‘s what life in my neighborhood looks like. Can I hire you a moving truck? Can you come today?”